


Stories for the Seven

by WeirdDaydreamingFangirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jaime X Brienne Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl/pseuds/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl
Summary: Weird offers a series of unrelated Jaime X Brienne one-shots for each deity in celebration of JB Week 2018 to secure a happy ending for our two favorite idiots-in-love. XD





	1. Insecure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **~The Maiden~**  
>  _represents purity, innocence, love, and beauty._  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MODERN AU**
> 
> This fanfic is something I’d been planning to explore for a long time and now I’m forced to write it because it fits the theme. XD I hope I did the characters justice in this experiment fic.
> 
> *scrambles under the bed and hides* *thumbs up peeks out of the bed*

This was it. Four years in college; of a reluctant acquaintance that had blossomed to a strong friendship, with undertones of sexual tension that condensed to mutual pining had led to this—clothes strewn, hands everywhere, bodies grinding, Jaime on top of Brienne, the head of his cock brushing her entrance.

He broke off their kiss, wanting to look at Brienne the first time he entered her. Brienne wasn’t a virgin, though her experience was little and back when she was in high school. Still, Jaime thought she looked like one. Her face was flushed, her eyes were wide with wonder and innocence underneath the burning desire.

Brienne had been used and hurt and Jaime wanted her to feel nothing but his love for her. He wanted her to feel the pleasure she’d been greatly denied.

But then his insecurities came creeping in. He wasn’t certain if he would be able to.

His face must have shown his change of mood because Brienne looked just as insecure as he felt.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” she muttered, misinterpreting Jaime’s nerves for doubt. Panicked, Jaime pinned her shoulders to the bed before she could get up then kissed her. Thankfully, she responded to it.

When he broke away, Jaime looked into her eyes with much seriousness. “I love you,” he said, much easier than the first time he’d said it. “You know that and I’d be happy to remind you every single day of our lives but...”

He sat up, wanting to be in a more comfortable position for them to talk about it. Brienne followed him but wrapped the sheets around herself. For a moment, Jaime allowed a surge of endearment to her shyness then turned serious once more.

“I haven’t done this before,” he confessed.

“What?” was all she could say.

Jaime huffed before explaining. “I haven’t really had sex with anyone okay?”

Brienne’s scrunched expression quickly slackened into shock.

“But… you’ve always been so…”

Jaime nervously chuckled. “You should know me by now to know that I would say _anything_ to make you blush.”

Brienne squirmed a bit. “I know you told me you haven’t dated in a while but you still dated. I remembered walking in on you making out with that blond chick in the party in our freshman year.”

Jaime shrugged sheepishly. “I did and I won’t lie. I got naked with them, and did… stuff, but whenever it was time to actually do the deed, I freak out, you know?” He’d never told anyone this. Tyrion might have suspected, since his brother kept throwing women his way, but nobody really knew. He supposed it was where the rumors about him being in the closet came from or that he had problems “getting it up” but otherwise, nobody suspected that he had no experience. “I don’t know. Most women I dated I never really clicked. Sure, they were gorgeous in a normal sense but they lacked the substance and connection I wanted.”

Jaime wondered if he just never really gave a chance to connect with those women. After all, the first time he met them they were either after his prestige or for casual sex. Tywin was like a predated father, trying to set him up with someone of a political advantage as early as college. Tyrion, while only trying to help, didn’t understand Jaime’s need for a genuine relationship built on understanding, trust and respect.

“I just really wanted to make you feel special, Brienne, but I might not know how.”

Jaime was looking down in embarrassment. His confident façade crumbling before Brienne, leaving him more naked than he was physically.

Then a pair of hands framed his face, gently nudging his face up. Brienne stared at him with a small smile. She leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. When she broke off, she rested her forehead against his.

“Jaime, don’t forget I love you as well. I may have had experience and although I wasn’t treated unkindly…” _Only lied to,_ Jaime thought. Brienne must have sensed his anger because she hastily added, “…in bed, Jaime. Not treated unkindly in bed.” Jaime didn’t argue further, but even if she wasn’t abused, she didn’t deserved to be fed declarations of love that was only meant as access to her large inheritance. He let it slide and let Brienne speak. “It wasn’t as good because deep down, I didn’t really want him. I just settled for whoever wanted me at the moment, but I really didn’t want him. But I love you and I want you, Jaime. And you love me and you want me. It’s what matters to me.”

Jaime was speechless for a long time. It was like she took the words from his heart. If he had any uncertainty, even a little bit, about Brienne, it was gone.

“Well, would you look at that,” he finally said. “I have absolutely nothing to say to your five-sentence speech.”

Brienne sucked her bottom lip and lightly slapped his chest. “Shut up,” she muttered.

Jaime chuckled. “Don’t worry. You didn’t waste a single word in those five sentences.”

“Idiot,” she said fondly.

Jaime sighed looking down at his own flaccid cock. “Well, I think I killed the mood.”

Then, a large freckled hand wrapped around his penis. Instantly, it twitched to life.

“I think I can help with that,” Brienne said as she began sliding up and down his shaft. After a loud groan, he captured her lips, rekindling their earlier passion and easily setting it back aflame.

Within the hour, Jaime Lannister was no longer a maid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realistically, I think the chances of this happening is little considering Jaime’s environment and the omission of incest but I hope it wasn’t too ooc anyway. :P


	2. Lightbringer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **~The Smith~**   
>  _represents creation and craftsmanship.He is the mender of broken things who puts the world of men to right. Grants workers the strength to continue their labors._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **POST CANON**  
>  This was based on a not very popular interpretation of the story of Azor Ahai and the creation of Lightbringer (which I'll post below) with my own interpretation as well.

Tarth was already lively as Tyrion and Jaime traveled to Evenfall Hall. Tents of various sizes and colors adorned the green landscape. Talk and shouts and laughter rang in their ears. All sorts of entertainment were already drawing in the curious crowds. Tyrion was no stranger to such events but Tarth had always been fairly quiet every time he visited. It had been the first time he was able to arrive just in time for the island’s annual fair. The uneventful isle made the spirit of excitement from the islanders contagious and thrumming within Tyrion's bones.

His brother, however, looked like he’d been to war. Tyrion could already see Jaime’s sour mood from a mile away and had guessed the reason. In their last exchange of letters in the mainland, Tyrion learned the Lady Evenstar was pregnant again and Tyrion had already witnessed firsthand how much he pampered his pregnant wife during her first pregnancy. Tyrion almost didn’t recognize Jaime back then. He fussed like a mother hen. But when Tyrion thought about it more, his brother loved with his whole heart and never really got the chance to fully express his love until now.

As Jaime was halted by Tarth officials on their way to Evenfall, Tyrion knew Jaime had shouldered all of his wife’s responsibilities to make sure she’s rested. But when they passed by a singer plucking familiar notes in his lute, Tyrion had learned what had truly caught his brother’s ire.

“It’s nobody’s business where I stick—or had stuck—my cock in,” Jaime complained.

There had been a rather ribald song that had recently spread. Tyrion had laughed at it when he first heard it but he knew his brother wouldn’t approve of such a song. He’d half expected the song to be banned in Tarth but it mildly surprised him that he merely did nothing but groan. He didn’t ask why he didn’t do so, though.

“I thought it was a clever way of paralleling your life to Azor Ahai’s,” Tyrion replied instead, badly containing his snicker. “Comparing your celibacy vows of the Kingsguard to Azor Ahai tempering his sword in water is quite brilliant! Chivalry certainly had you ‘burst asunder’. I’ve seen the dark spot on your breeches every time your wife defends the weak and innocent.”

Jaime stuck his tongue out. Their sister was still a bit of a sore subject for him… for them both, really, so he had decided to skip the lion’s heart.

“Shame that your wife’s cries of anguish and ecstasy didn’t leave a crack across the moon.”

Jaime surprisingly smirked at that.

“You heard her well enough as I remember.”

It was Tyrion’s turn to frown. He’d nearly walked in on them when they fucked in Winterfell. It was thanks to his lady’s cries that he didn’t enter the room. Later, he’d learned it had been their first time and that he’d taken the lady’s maidenhead.

Like in the song.

“Fine but admit the symbolism of cracking the moon and breaking through her maidenhead was interesting.”

“I’m in no mood for discussing how wonderful my wife feels, Tyrion. Besides, she’s quite murderous in her condition so I don’t want any crude japes involving her. She’s not happy about the song either but is too honorable to beat the singer.”

Tyrion wanted to tell him that the song wasn’t too bad. In the end it told of how his wife’s goodness flowed into him and forged him into the hero they needed to fight against the Others. Tyrion would disagree because he knew how selfless his brother could be but he admitted, Tyrion felt like Jaime had been freed from a cage ever since he loved his wife.

Their current topic was abruptly forgotten though when they arrived at the castle. Tyrion turned to his brother and saw the instant change in his entire being. He was shining just like his new sigil when he got down his horse and kissed his family as if it was them and not Tyrion he hadn’t seen in ages.

As soon as Tyrion got down his horse, he was flocked by his nieces and nephews. The eldest, fourteen-year-old Joanne, was the first who hugged him. He’d seen a lot of Lannister in her—all mischief and cunning and pride—which made Tyrion and the girl get along so well but he saw her rigid moral code. She loved the sword as much as her parents did and was as chivalrous as well, but always sought to resolve conflict as quickly as possible.

“It’s great to see you, uncle,” his niece greeted him warmly. He was closest with Joanne, having been present during the Joanne’s birth and had seen her grow up throughout his visits.

Once she let him go, thirteen-year-old Galladon followed. He was shy like his mother, but he was peaceful, always looking for ways to compromise. Tyrion may not be as close with him as he is with Joanne but he saw him as a worthy heir to his own house.

“Uncle, it’s been so long,” Galladon said. His hug was brief but strong, much like his mother.

“Lord Lannister,” Genna and Selwyn said in unison, the girl giving a graceful curtsy while the boy giving a quick bow. Tyrion smiled and beckoned them both to an embrace. Reluctantly, they came forward, perhaps wary as they were still young when they met their uncle, but Tyrion remembered them too well. Even when they were still three, the twins, Genna and Selwyn had already distinct personalities. The girl was a proper lady and Tyrion definitely see her mother’s sweetness and courtesy in little Genna and it hadn’t changed when the girl was seven. Her twin, Selwyn, was a wild child with a need to explore. Tyrion could still see the same spirit as he recited the castles of House Lannister and its bannermen. Both twins shared their love of knowledge of the mainland.

The current youngest, three-year-old Duncan, was quiet for a child. He had large blue eyes that seemed to be observing him. It looked curious, smart, calculating.  _He might make a fine Lannister_ , Tyrion mused while hugging his nephew.

Finally, Tyrion paid respect to the Evenstar.

“Lady Tarth, you look positively radiant,” he said, kissing her hand. Brienne rolled her eyes good-naturedly, muttering something about Lannister men being flatterers. Tyrion chuckled at that and Brienne returned it with one of her rare smiles.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Tyrion.”

“Come on, everyone,” Jaime urged. “Let’s go inside. I would like some quality time with my whole family before we are all whisked to the madness of this fair in the afternoon.”

Once they were all seated in the dining hall, Tyrion began really observing the family. It was almost as loud and lively as the fair outside had been. Five children and one—possibly two judging from the size of Brienne’s belly—on the way, and Jaime was still as happy as he had been when he had Joanne. It had only been Tyrion’s fourth visit to Tarth but Jaime’s glow was consistent throughout them all. Tyrion could see how much love and attention he gave to each and every one of them. His little stars, Jaime called them, and Tyrion knew that these children and Brienne had become his light.

…

After the day’s festivities, Tyrion and Jaime sat in the solar. Brienne insisted that the two brothers talk while she took over putting the younger ones to bed.

“They should have the ending to your song changed,” Tyrion told his brother.

Jaime rolled his eyes as he sipped his wine.

“I thought it was the only decent part.”

“If they were going to talk about your cock, Lightbringer shouldn’t have just stopped at the defeat of the Others.”

Though greying and wrinkled, Jaime’s eyes were still sharp and twinkled with mischief. “Do tell.”

“I’m not saying the defeat of the Others was a small thing. It did help immensely, but picking up yourself after a long war and a long winter is no small feat either. Although you’re no longer a Lannister in name, you still carry plenty of it with you—both good and bad—and you used it to rebuild.

Then I see them all—Joanne, Galladon, Genna, Selwyn, Duncan and your new babe… babes. You did well with them, Jaime. You and Brienne.”

Jaime was speechless, smiling, his eyes shiny with unshed tears probably. Tyrion continued.

“I see your goodness in them. I see your light. They’re _your_ Lightbringer and I see hope for a better Westeros in the future.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It was a time when darkness lay heavy on the world. To oppose it, the hero must have a hero's blade, oh, like none that had ever been. And so for thirty days and thirty nights Azor Ahai labored sleepless in the temple, forging a blade in the sacred fires. Heat and hammer and fold, heat and hammer and fold, oh, yes, until the sword was done. Yet when he plunged it into water to temper the steel it burst asunder._
> 
> _Being a hero, it was not for him to shrug and go in search of excellent grapes such as these, so again he began. The second time it took him fifty days and fifty nights, and this sword seemed even finer than the first. Azor Ahai captured a lion, to temper the blade by plunging it through the beast's red heart, but once more the steel shattered and split. Great was his woe and great was his sorrow then, for he knew what he must do._
> 
> _A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa' he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.' She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes._
> 
> \- Chapter 10, Davos I: A Clash of Kings
> 
> I wrote this like five times. Originally, I was going to have Jaime and Brienne as king and queen after the whole ordeal and the setting took place after their son was king but it wasn’t working out so I found this easier I guess. I think the reason this was so hard to write was because I embodied the concept of this deity the most. It wasn’t just the whole theme of ‘forging Lightbringer’ but the Smith also represents hardwork and labor and is also the mender of broken things who puts the world of men to right.  So yeah… so much concept XD


	3. The Woman Within Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **~The Crone~**   
>  _represents wisdom and foresight. She is represented carrying a lantern._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **POST-SEASON 7**
> 
> I’m pretty sure this was the second to the last thing I wrote because I had no idea what to do with this theme. XD

Jaime was certain he was dying. Every breath felt like ice shards burning into his lungs. He was certain his remaining hand was as hard and cold as his golden one because he couldn’t feel them anymore. He hadn’t been able to find adequate shelter and the winds made it difficult for him to even know where he was. It didn’t take long for him to collapse face first on the icy ground.

 _I have failed_ , he thought miserably. It had been bad enough he couldn’t get the Lannister army, now he couldn’t even bring himself.

 _I always knew you were the stupidest Lannister_ , echoed Cersei’s voice in his head. He certainly felt like it. He was one man who lost his sword hand. What could he even hope to contribute? He’ll be just another mouth to feed in the North.

Jaime collapsed face down on the snowy ground. Perhaps some desperate soul would find his body and steal his provisions. _I’m more useful that way_.

The air around him suddenly became warmer. Jaime forced himself to look up. Something dark steals the usual sight of blinding white snow. For a moment, he’d wondered if he’d gone blind but he saw the ice trying to creep up around that dark object. It was a welcomed sight. If he was to die, he didn’t want the last thing he saw to be white.

But this pop of color looming above him seemed to demand something.

Jaime pulled himself up and found himself face-to-face with a hooded figure bringing a lamp that seemed to keep the worst effects of the snow storm away. He could see that the face belonged to a woman but before he could get even more distinct features, she turned from him and began walking.

Somehow, Jaime knew he had to follow.

They walked together in silence. Jaime didn’t talk even though he wanted to hear anything other than the dreadful howls of winter threatening to break through the barrier the lamp created. Besides, his throat burned too much from all the cold air he breathed.

Sometimes, though, when Jaime felt like he wanted to stop and give up, the hooded woman paused and turned to him. It was quick so he couldn’t really see her face properly but he knew that woman was glaring at him, telling him to live. He could’ve sworn the woman’s eyes were blue but he could never check.

Eventually, Jaime’s limit was stretched and he really couldn’t go on. He dropped to the ground, not caring about what the woman thought anymore. The woman was probably a vivid hallucination his dying mind conjured anyway so he wouldn’t perish alone.

Just as Jaime was resigned to his fate, he heard a voice.

“There’s a man here!”

Jaime wanted to curse the gods. Couldn’t he have died before desperate men raided his things? He could feel himself being turned upward. _Let me bloody die first!_ He tried to go away inside, imagining himself saying a nasty remark to the Stranger for taking so bloody long.

“By the Seven… Ser Jaime!”

All thoughts of meeting the Stranger left him when the owner of the voice dawned on him.

“Ser Bronn, help me!” the person demanded.

Jaime cracked his eyes open and saw a pair of blue eyes, shining and afraid. _Brienne_ , he wanted to say, but he could only look at her eyes as if they were the sunshine he hadn’t seen for so long.

“Don’t you dare die on me, ser! Ser Bronn, hurry up!”

Jaime couldn’t help but smile at her scowl. He missed that scowl. He missed that demanding tone. He missed that scar on her lip. He missed that gentle hold, that strong grip, that warm body.

He missed her.

“Seven bloody hells!” came Bronn’s voice. “Why are alone? Fuck. Your sister betrayed them all, didn’t she?” Jaime nodded weakly and the sellsword snorted. “I fucking knew it! Good thing I left with Podrick. I was almost certain you’d stay.”

“He is an honorable man, Ser Bronn,” Brienne chided him with more vehemence than necessary. He knew Brienne saw him as honorable but hearing her defend him brought some warmth, not enough but it sparked his will to live.

“Well, I fucking hope so because I know you’re in need of an army and I’ve talked with some of the Lannister men garrisoned here in the Riverlands. They received no word from King’s Landing about anything.”

Of course, Qyburn was supposed to be the one to send the raven to the Riverlands about their trip to the North, but he was certain they would receive word of—as Cersei would put it—Jaime’s betrayal.

As he was being heaved to stand, Bronn talked more. “There doesn’t seem to be any word about capturing you either. Perhaps the raven hasn’t reached them or she expected you to die or come back.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brienne cut in. “You still have men, Jaime. They may not be the numbers the queen promised but you will lead them. Let them pledge their allegiance to you before the queen finds some way to control them.”

It stunned Jaime that she didn’t ask him to pledge his men to Jon Snow or the Dragon Queen, nor did she ask him to pledge alliances to anyone. Then he remembered her shocking words in the dragon pit and suddenly, he wasn’t surprised.

_Fuck loyalty_

He felt the heat of her blush and he realized that he must have said her words aloud. He also realized his face was buried at the crook of her neck, the fur lining of her cloak tickling his nose. He hadn’t registered that they made him stand up with Bronn and Brienne supporting him on either side.

“You have to live, Ser Jaime,” she whispered.

He was shivering and aching and tired but he was _feeling_. As long as he was feeling, he was living.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a lamp on the snow. He wasn’t sure if he was still imagining things but he knew the message it wanted to relay nonetheless

Jaime relaxed his head on Brienne’s shoulder, drawing strength from her.

He would live and he would fight.


	4. The Haunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **~The Stranger~**  
>  _represents death and the unknown._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **MODERN AU**  
>  I was saving this for Halloween but I didn’t know what to do with this theme so I wrote this earlier than intended.

It all started when the Starks slept at the Winterfell Castle.

When Catelyn decided their family trip, it was to introduce them to their family history. In truth, her children were more interested in the prospect of seeing ghosts, which Catelyn frankly thought ridiculous.

That is until they got home from the trip.

Catelyn began to hear bumps at night. Ned assured her that it must be the dogs. She’d believed him and slept better for a while.

Several nights later, she woke up to a loud sound coming from downstairs. She shook her husband awake and went to investigate. Catelyn panicked when she found Bran sprawling at the foot of the stairs. Ned took their son to the hospital and later called to tell her that Bran only sported a minor fracture in his legs. When Catelyn put down the call, she almost could’ve sworn she heard a whisper of apology in her ear.

When Bran came home, he profoundly changed. He became aloof, often spending hours in his room. His siblings tried to goad him to go exploring but he preferred staying in the backyard, sitting against the large tree.

Catelyn thought it was only Bran she had to worry about. If her little boy was quiet, her daughter was the opposite. Sansa woke up screaming from her nightmares. They got so bad that by the third night, Sansa insisted she slept in Cat and Ned’s room, between the couple. The girl was incoherent when she tried to relate her nightmares but all they could understand was that they were both gone and everything went bad. They thought it helped a little but Sansa looked paler and gaunter each day. Catelyn suspected she’d tried to stop sleeping.

She took her children to therapy but even the therapist was confused. Several sessions and the therapist couldn’t find anything that could have caused their sudden change of behavior. They both grew up in a loving environment and loved greatly by their peers. They didn’t seem to be hiding anything. The therapist asked Cat and Ned if they knew of a family member with a history of any mental illness. The couple didn’t know. All the therapist got from them was that they feel like themselves but at the same time, they don’t. The therapist could only promise to try and coax something more from the children.

One night, Catelyn began to dream. She was in a castle, but not Winterfell. She could see dead bodies around her, except for an old man seated at the top of a dais. He was smiling cruelly at her. To her far right, she saw Robb. He looked just as she did now but he looked worn, as if he bore the weight of the world. Without any control of her body, she held the body of a girl, barely older than Sansa. Catelyn held a knife against the girl’s throat, begging and pleading for her son’s life but the old man merely toasted and she watched as a knife was plunged into Robb’s stomach. With a cry of anguish, Catelyn slit the throat of the young girl.

The last thing Catelyn felt was the cold blade digging into her throat.

She woke up, gasping for breath and holding her throat. She almost screamed when she saw Bran and Sansa standing at the foot of her bed. She barely even registered her husband waking up to the commotion.

“We need to get to Riverrun,” Bran said. “Sansa and I have to bring them along but only _you_ can bring them together.”

“They only wanted to see each other again,” Sansa added meekly. “They didn’t mean to bring terrible memories along.”

Catelyn booked a train to Riverrun castle. It was a quick book but the trip was long. They managed to make it an hour before it closed and even asked a favor to a friend who worked there to have them accommodated on short notice. Her friend agreed when she offered to double her pay for each of their ticket.

After walking with the tourists for some time, Catelyn began regretting this. She wasn’t certain if this was leading anywhere, but then she looked at Bran and Sansa and she realized that she needed to try for them.

When they found themselves in the dungeons, Catelyn felt the air around her change. She began walking slower so the crowd moved ahead of her. Her kids followed her example and they watched the group disappear, leaving the three of them alone.

“They’re here,” Bran said.

It began as two small lights, almost like that floating dust that got into your eye, but it got bigger and bigger until it formed two large glowing figures. She was beginning to see the basic human shape—arms, legs, a torso, a head. Then the features became more distinct. The two were large, clad in armor. Catelyn would have thought they were two men until Catelyn glimpsed the eyes of the larger one. It was wide and lovely. It looked innocent, like a girl’s. She was greatly reminded of Sansa. The other looked handsome and something clenched in Catelyn's stomach at the sight of him.

The two figures were two glowing smoke twirling around one another until they slowed to a halt. Their spectral hands—well, a hand and stump for the man—clutched on to each other’s faces. Suddenly, Catelyn was hit with a wave of overwhelming happiness as she watched the two warriors stare into one another.

The two ghosts turned to Catelyn and nodded. Their lips moved soundlessly. They were transparent but Catelyn could make out their speech.

 _Thank you_.

With that, the two disappeared, making the dungeon suddenly darker. Catelyn looked at her children and they seemed to look happier despite the obvious weariness. She immediately enfolded them in her embrace.

“Excuse me, ma’am but the castle is closing in fifteen minutes.”

The three looked to the dungeon exit and found a security guard standing there. Catelyn couldn’t help but gape when she saw what the guard looked like—the large build, the rather pretty eyes. She instinctively pulled her children closer.

“I-” the woman stammered, blushing. “I apologize but I need to escort you to the exit.

Warily, she followed the woman, making sure her children were securely held in each of her hand as she did. Once there was more light, Catelyn was certain the woman was solid, unlike the hazy specter from earlier. She wore a uniform suited to the time era. Catelyn’s fear was so great that it took her so long to realize that her staring made the woman uncomfortable.

Before Catelyn could apologize, the large woman spoke.

“Sir, the museum is closed. Let me escort you to the exit.”

Catelyn realized she wasn’t the one being spoken to and turned to the direction the woman faced.

“I know where the exit is, wench.”

Upon seeing the man, Catelyn heard Sansa’s gasp and Bran pressed himself closer against her mother’s side. That square jaw, those cheekbones, those eyes twinkling with mischief. The only thing different was that he had both hands. She wondered if it had all been an elaborate joke but she knew from her children that it wasn’t.

“Good,” the guard spat. That term was as old as the castle so Catelyn wasn’t sure if it meant young woman or prostitute but either meaning seemed to insult the guard anyway. “But I still need to see to it that you _do_ leave. Protocol.”

“Wait,” the man said. “Just give me a few seconds.”

Catelyn expected the guard to drag him by the arm but to their surprise, she said nothing and a heavy silence went upon them. Neither Catelyn nor the kids broke it. There was some strange feeling of reverence over them, as if they were in a sept and the man was praying.

“Let’s go now, sir,” the guard finally spoke. It saddened the man and the guard must have noticed it because she suddenly said, “There’s just something about this place that draws you in.”

The man widened his eyes in disbelief at her words and rigorously nodded. “I’ve been coming here every few years, but today, something compelled me to stay a bit longer today.”

The guard smiled a bit. “Thankfully I found you or you might be arrested or something.”

“My Ser Wench,” the man teased, making the guard frown.

“Okay, let’s get a move on,” the guard ordered.

The man chuckled but joined their little group.

“What about you, ma’am?” the man asked and Catelyn realized he was asking her. “Why were you still here?”

Catelyn gave a small smile. “Like you said, something drew me here.”

They nodded. In her arms, Bran was whining that he was hungry and wanted fries while Sansa was smiling at their two companions, no doubt ‘shipping’ them.  It assured Catelyn that her kids were getting back to their normal selves.

As the three bade the guard goodbye, the man stayed. Catelyn was able to snatch up snippets of their conversation.

“So, after you hand over your duty to the night guard, would you like to grab a bite? That is... if you don’t have any plans.”

“N-no. I mean. Yes. I mean. No, I have no plans and yes, I would like to.”

“That’s great. I’ll wait for you here, wench.”

The guard protested but Catelyn was too far away to hear her words. It was likely at that archaic nickname he’d given her. The man laughed. Catelyn had to look back a surge of protectiveness for the woman. There had been an innocence about her. But when she turned back, she saw the woman punched the guy on the arm. The man pouted like a petulant child while rubbing his arm but his expression quickly softened of a man in love.

Once the two were out of their earshot, Catelyn felt like something heavy in her chest was lifted, as if an old festering wound in her heart finally healed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a Catelyn POV but no Brienne POV yet? Idk either XD


	5. A Goodfather's Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **~The Father~**  
>  _represents divine justice._  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **POST CANON**

Jaime arrived in the chambers just in time to see little Joanne wake.

A pair of large green eyes blinked up at him sleepily. The color may be his but the way it opened halfway and blinking two to five times before widening fully was all her mother’s.

Joanne finally seemed to sense his presence and for a moment, Jaime feared she’d cry. Even through their thick door, he and Brienne would hear her as she and her maid approached their chambers. Joanne had the lungs worthy of a Lannister, indeed.

However, the girl seemed to only look at him in curiosity. This made Jaime a little bolder. He reached his lone hand into the crib and gently brushed his index finger against her rosy chubby cheek. _She has her mother’s cheek color_ , Jaime mused.

His finger, then, moved upward to touch the soft hair in her head—pale like Brienne’s but thick like his. This made the child gurgle, startling Jaime. He quickly withdrew his finger, fearing he’d done something wrong.

Worst, Joanne began being restless, squirming in her crib and making even more noise. Her small arms were waving about. Jaime didn’t know what to do. He’d sent the maid away, wanting so badly to spend some alone time with the babe.

Out of instinct, Jaime reached back in the crib, about to carry her though he’d never tried picking her up himself, always used to having someone else place her in his arms. Then, the girl caught his finger in her hand.

The contact stunned Jaime. The hand was so small compared to his finger, her five fingers barely encircling his one, yet the grip was strong.

Jaime chuckled. “You’d make a mighty warrior, young lady. Just like your mother.”

The babe giggled in response as her other hand held the same finger almost like holding a two-handed sword. She even began pulling at it, as if wanting to slash the air with it.

“How impatient of you, little one, using your father’s finger as a sword. That won’t do, my little Joanne.”

And that’s when it hit him. _She_ was _his_ daughter and _he_ was _her_ father. He need not keep his distance. He was free to acknowledge her. He was free to be her father.

Tears began flowing down his cheeks. Joanne, _his_ little Joanne, seemed to sense his sorrow. She stopped tugging at his finger but she didn’t let go. Jaime didn’t want her to, even if her sharp nails did hurt a bit.

His moment was interrupted when there was a knock on the door. He recognized that knock. Jaime hastily wiped his tears with his right sleeve, but he didn’t dare move his left hand. Joanne, thankfully, was still steadfast in her hold.

He gave permission for the person to enter but didn’t turn around. He merely looked at Joanne as he listened to familiar footsteps approach.

“It’s alright, boy,” the man said as he was beside him. “My wife wouldn’t stop laughing at my tear-streaked face when Brienne did the exact same thing as a baby.”

Jaime made himself look up at his good father. Selwyn Tarth was a tall large man that looked imposing but his eyes, while brown and not blue, were kind and full of understanding.

“How did you raise Brienne the way she is?” _How do I become a father?_

The man shrugged his broad shoulders.

“I don’t think there’s a sure answer to that. If you think I’m perfect, I’m not. I failed Brienne in so many ways,” the old man croaked, pausing for a while before continuing. “But I must have did something right. I’m not exactly certain what, but I’m proud of the lady she has become. So very proud.”

Jaime nodded. He was glad Selwyn survived winter and the attacks on Tarth by the Golden Company, not just for Brienne’s sake. Jaime had children but never had been their father and he would never be a Tywin if it’s the last thing he’ll do. He was glad someone who produced a decent offspring was around to tell him about the experiences of fatherhood.

“Well, that certainly won’t help,” Jaime japed. “This child has Brienne and me as parents. Joanne would be the most stubborn, short-tempered girl ever to be born. I feel sorry for the teeth of the boys in Tarth.”

Selwyn chuckled. “It’s more worrying when she starts fancying boys.”

Jaime grimaced at that. The thought of her baby girl…

“I will make sure she knows how to make boys eat dirt so they don’t ever go near her.”

Selwyn guffawed at that and patted his back so hard Jaime felt like his shoulder wanted to fall off.

“See? You’re already being a great father.” Then, the man held a softer expression. “You will do fine though. I’ve seen how you care for my little star. I know you will care for your lion cub the same.”

Jaime’s heart swelled with pride. It meant a lot, coming from the man who raised his best friend, his wife, his love, his ever wonderful _Brienne_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this was the shallowest interpretation I did with the theme and it was a fairly predictable thing to put out. I just wanted to write this because of a cat picture [Renee561](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renee561/pseuds/Renee561) *waves at Renee* sent me that gave me dad Jaime having feels about being a dad feels XD I’m just too lazy to find a unique twist to this theme. Hope you enjoyed this nonetheless. :3
> 
> Here's the picture BTW:


	6. Woman Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **~The Mother~**  
>  _represents mercy, peace, fertility, and childbirth. She is sometimes referred to as "the strength of women"_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **POST-CANON**
> 
> Finally, a Brienne POV XD
> 
> Also, I’m sorry?

Brienne felt like a failure.

She hadn’t gone out of her chambers for nearly a fortnight since. She ate and slept little, the latter only caused by the nightmares she had of blood and blue skin that didn’t belong to White Walkers this time, but a small innocent body that hadn’t even breathed once. Her baby boy with hair as fair as hers, unmoving.

_It’s my fault. I’m not woman enough._

Many tried to reassure her but Brienne’s insecurities formed a thick wall, shutting them out. Even her husband’s persistence to break through was met with a vicious attack on her part. She felt even worst without Jaime too soothe her at night but she couldn’t face him after her outburst, her weakness. She didn’t want to see anyone if she was honest, most especially him.

She knew it was all too good to be true. There were no happy endings for the likes of her. If Jaime left her, she wouldn’t be surprised. She began questioning everything good that had happened to her. All her insecurities crawled from the deepest depths of her soul and began consuming her like a starved monster.

Just then, a soft knock could be heard from the door. Despite her grief, she could still more or less tell time, knowing when the servants would come in to bring her food. It was in the middle of the afternoon, too early for any food to be brought. Before she could ponder on her possible visitors, a familiar face peeked inside.

“Brienne.”

 _Jaime_. His voice was like a soothing caress. It had been a few days since she’d kicked him out and he hadn’t returned until that moment.

“I hope you don’t mind but I brought visitors,” he said.

Brienne froze. That urge in her to scream at Jaime was rising in her throat but it got stuck when she heard a familiar albeit deeper voice.

“Ser M’lady…”

By the door stood not-so-young Podrick smiling shyly at her. Her squire, now a knight, had wished to remain in Winterfell. Brienne had felt bad leaving the Stark girl’s service so Podrick insisted that he shoulder her oaths. It was his way of thanking her and for proving her that he’d learned a lot from her. Brienne had been nearly moved to tears seeing the stuttering boy who’d followed her around grow into a man.

Before she could even greet him, another person entered.

“Lady Brienne.”

Sansa seemed happier despite being older. It had been Sansa who had convinced her to marry Jaime and happily released her from her service. Sansa had been warmer once the Long Night ended, although Brienne had suspected it was the death of Cersei that had made her more at ease. Lady Sansa smiled more and treated Brienne less of a knight and more like a friend. When they had parted, Sansa had hugged her and something that resembled a warm protectiveness and comfort had bloomed in her chest.

“Brienne!”

Arya was still rugged as ever. Her marriage to the smith didn’t seem to turn her any more of a lady which Brienne could relate to a lot. Underneath the murderous glint in the girl’s eyes, Brienne had seen a vulnerability within her. She glimpsed the girl trying often to reclaim her lost childhood. Brienne had often wondered if she purposely pulled childish tricks on people in Brienne’s presence. She could’ve sworn the corner of Lady Arya’s lips twitched when Brienne had gently chided her.

“Ser Podrick, Lady Sansa, Lady Arya…” Brienne said with as much dignity as she could considering her dreadful condition. “What are you doing here?”

“We were in King’s Landing when Lord Tyrion told us about your… condition,” Sansa answered carefully. “We thought we might stop by.”

“It was not necessary, my lady. Though I thank you for that.” In truth, it meant to Brienne so much but she’d never been good with words.

“You look awful,” Arya interjected. Her tone sounded less blunt and more teasing, more appropriate for her age. Still, Sansa gave her sister a rueful glare at that. Arya looked a little ashamed despite her nonchalant shrug.

Brienne could only chuckle at that. It might have hurt coming from anyone else but not Arya. It warmed her heart that the girl hadn’t changed as much.

“Ser m’lady, we just want to tell you that your current misfortune doesn’t make you less wonderful than you are. Lady Sansa, Lady Arya, and I attest to that.”

Pod had always been the sweetest. It struck her heart and she couldn’t help but blubber and release all the tears.  Suddenly, a pair of arms were around her, then another, then another. She sobbed quietly in the arms of the children that weren’t hers. After a while, the three released her and she smiled at them.

“Lord Jaime says he prepared a meal for us. Perhaps we can talk more?” Sansa said.

“Yes. Ser Pod must tell you about this woman he fancies,” Arya teased and Podrick’s face burned at that.

Brienne snorted. “That I need to hear.”

Then they began telling her stories about how they’ve been. Brienne hadn’t noticed but she began to make room for them on her bed, the two girls sat on her either wide while Podrick sat on a seat in front of her. They have completely forgotten about the meal prepared for them as they laughed and talked and gossiped like family. Jaime stood by the door, watching his wife come to life again. He could almost imagine the three with his golden locks and her blue eyes.

“It appears you are all preoccupied,” Jaime cut in in the middle of it. “I guess I shall send your meals here, if it please you all?”

They agreed. It was not customary but they thought it would be better for a weary Brienne yet still keep her company. Brienne, on the other hand, didn’t say anything. She merely met his eyes. He could see joy and apology and… a plea.

 _We shall try again_ , Jaime’s gaze swore to her. _And I shall remind you that you are a woman and I love you no matter what._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t want to write Brienne lose her first baby because I feel like Brienne already has enough mockery from people about how untraditionally feminine she is (even though she's very traditionally feminine at heart) (also, I'm aware that women are more than just babymakers but we're talking about Westerosi standards and that Brienne also wants girly things. I mean maybe this shouldn't have been said but making sure XD) but this was the only thing I could think of for the theme. I probably made this a stretch since I doubt Sansa will ever step into King’s Landing or will be this warm but ssshhhhh I needed fluff to go with this. XD


	7. The Warrior's Champions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **~The Warrior~**  
>  _represents strength and courage in battle._  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CANON COMPLIANT**
> 
>  
> 
> Literally thought of this 4 days before JB week ~~and it's now the last day of JB week *pouts*~~. I had been reading up about the Faith of the Seven in the ASoIaF wiki and read the history of the Faith and got inspired. This is honestly just crack.

The Crone foretold of the Long Night coming again and the Seven convened.

“Warrior,” she said. “You must work with the Mother and check every babe about to born. Among them you will find our champion and give him the gift of swordplay.”

The deity nodded but inside, he was rolling his eyes. He was the Warrior. His sword was his wife and his lust were in battles. He would protect the children but he had no desire to scour babes that hadn’t even been born yet.

Still, the Crone was wisdom, so he obeyed.

The Warrior had tirelessly worked with the Mother, checking the souls of babes to be sent to their worldly mother’s belly for the right. He’d searched far and wide for the perfect candidate—from the nobles down to the smallfolk.

“The bloody hag wouldn’t even tell me how I’ll know,” the Warrior muttered, so low so the Mother won’t clout his ear for such language.

Despite his misgivings, he searched long and true until he was presented to a pair of twins. The Warrior felt it in his gut that their champion would be among them. They were lions in their community—one male and one female. He turned to the male, feeling the spirit of chivalry in him, and blessed him with the gift. While doing so, the Maiden approached him.

“Our champion is rather handsome,” she sighed dreamily. “His heart should be as loyal as he is brave.”

Before the Warrior could stop her, the Maiden had blessed the babe with an overwhelming romanticism. He wasn’t sure if it was wise but by then it was too late. He could only stare as the Maiden went away, giggling. The Warrior sighed. He’d done his duty and it was the Mother’s turn now to deliver the boy and his twin to safety.

Of course, their champion hadn’t turned out quite how they wanted.

The boy had the prowess with a sword no doubt, but he was arrogant, much of it contributed by his environment. He was a loving boy as the Maiden had said and perhaps it was due to his worldly mother, but the Stranger had taken her and the boy was deprived of that love, seeking it from his sister, although his great need of that love made him venture past the lines of familial love. The Father had been greatly angered when the Smith brought up as to when he shall present him with Valyrian steel.

“Is this truly the champion we seek?” he thundered at the Crone in one of their council meetings, before turning to the Warrior in great accusation. He wished to defend himself, telling the Father to shove his judge’s scales somewhere indecent but the Crone told him of other news.

“There is another,” she said. “You know what to do, Warrior.”

The Warrior protested but the Crone merely told him to hurry. He huffed as he left with the Mother, seeking for the other champion. The Maiden and the Father followed behind them. They searched together in haste. He’d almost given up hope when he saw a shining light in the distance and he and the Mother made a beeline toward it.

The Warrior was surprised that the babe was a girl but there had been many notable warrior women, particularly in Dorne and Bear Island and he respected them. In truth, the Warrior thought the mortal custom of having men and women have separate roles was quite foolish but they never really listen. Anyway, he blessed the babe. The Maiden had been at their heels and immediately blessed the babe with another romantic and loving heart and a great beauty, but she had been interrupted by the Father. The old fart had the strength to catch up apparently.

“I’ve just started working on her eyes!” the Maiden lamented, but the Father did not care at all. Frankly, neither did the Warrior but he didn’t want to make it look like he's agreeing with the Father.

“I shall bless the child with a strong sense of moral,” the Father announced. The Warrior could already see the girl will have his dourness. “And when they meet, the lion shall pay for his sins.”

 _Typical_ , the Warrior thought. Perhaps the Lion would be disfigured or would lose that sister of his with growing madness. Once the Father was done, the girl went off into the world.

There had been other champions he had missed apparently but they had been blessed by the other deities. The Warrior couldn’t care less anyway. It made his job easier.

Many, many years later, his two champions met earlier than anyone had anticipated and the Father’s curse had taken his sword hand. He wanted to strangle the egoistic fool. _Of all consequences he could’ve given…_ The fate of the world was in that hand. Yet somehow, the Maiden’s fanciful wishes on the champions somewhat softened the blow of their horrid experiences and transformed them into better versions of themselves.

“It was meant to be,” the Crone assured him and while the Warrior hated it at first, he saw that it formed them into the heroes they needed to be.

The Smith, then, intervened, splitting an ancient Northern sword (Ha! Take that old gods!) of Valyrian steel. The Maiden’s blessing had been the push to let the Lion give the Light the sword. She’d nearly swooned when it had been named Oathkeeper.

Widow’s Wail (a coward’s name choice) didn’t fall into the Lion’s hand until much later. The Warrior saw his diligence and his unknown preparation mentally and emotionally as well in becoming worthy to wield such a sword. Meanwhile, the Light wielded Oathkeeper well and used it all in good faith.

The Warrior was proud of both his Champions. As winter loomed over the mortal land of Westeros, the Warrior was confident that his Champions were more than ready to face it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this wasn’t the multichapter I hoped to post but I did all 7 days! *confetti* I hope you had fun reading all my one-shots. :3 I hope to post more JB fics for you this year. You guys are the best fandom I’ve ever been in and I hope we all get our due next year and JaimeXBrienne will be canon. *sobs*


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